


Entropy

by Kim_Kardashian



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-04 21:09:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10999044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kim_Kardashian/pseuds/Kim_Kardashian
Summary: Yuuri happened to enjoy eternal damnation. No one bothered him. That is until someone did.





	Entropy

He polished his favorite statue in his shrine, a haggard looking boar frozen mid-attack. The detail was amazing, although he didn’t appreciate its angry snarl. Plucking a handkerchief from his wing, he scraped the grime and dirt and made sure no one was in sight to witness this. This being his vanity. Vicchan growled whenever a stray maggot tried to crawl on his leg, but he would simply let the pattering rain wash it off.

“Heel, Vicchan. Heel.”

Vicchan shot him a casual side-eye and barked defiantly. Yuuri sighed. It had been a while since he was summoned, a hot minute since he received a sacrifice, a second since he felt sated. Restless and aimless, which was ironic for a demon. His youthful years included havoc and terrorizing humans, but it only took so many screams and fear to get bored. Then again, he had always been gentle and mellow, far too generous. His specialty included destroying businesses, not a notably arduous talent, but one humans loved to summon him for.

It started with stray dogs. That was how he made his presence known. He would circle around, ward off customers with feelings of foreboding. Cover the doors with a shroud of ugliness. Then breach security, incite robberies, vandalism. Watch patrons grow uneasy, then gradually dismantle everything from the inside. Make workers feel unhappy, owners more snappy. Lose money and credibility. Wreak and destroy with a flood or a drought. Pile up debts and reduce morale.

He was the reason all the hot springs in Hasetsu were on a dangerous decline. Did he like it? No, but he did need sustenance.

His real form sapped his energy, energy he couldn’t afford to lose. Vicchan was hungry as well, his presence wispier than he remembered. “We’ll find something,” Yuuri promised, tucking his wings. Without another word, he transformed. A jet-black boar, a bit smaller than his statue. An offering from a boy who was a sculptor in a nearby village, where humans often relied on dark energy to live. He had given the boy, Minami if his memory proved him right, a wish. To be the best craftsman in the village, although it meant sacrificing a pig and an offering of green tea. Yuuri was simple to please, he didn’t like demanding souls or requesting bodily fluids. No thanks, he heard it tasted wonderful. But no.

His snout detected the faint scent of something foul. Foul and floral, which equated to the presence of a young one. Vicchan barked in agreement, but Yuuri paused and hesitated. It wasn’t malicious, but this young demon definitely wanted to prove himself if he dared mark part of Yuuri’s temple. Trespassing wasn’t welcome, but he considered the days when he didn’t have boundaries either.

He didn’t think much of it. A wandering toddler shouldn’t be punished.

-

It was midnight in the human world. The fields of ferns covered him perfectly, camouflaged his shadow. He was aware ants crawled on his trunk, the urge to shake them off only angered him more than the fact that he had to leave Vicchan behind. He often guarded the temple while Yuuri did errands. Just being alone and Vicchan-less made him significantly weaker. Their link invigorated him in ways that just proved his severe need for company. Yuuri wanted to throttle whoever began to deplete the resources in this area. It always belonged to him, but humans always had to make things harder. He scanned the area again, a bit desperately, finding nothing. Not even a stray squirrel.

The full moon made him feel more alone, and for a split second, peace washed over him. Or as peaceful as he could be until his stomach burned. Boiled, his insides blistered and gurgled as steam rose from his left ear. Without debating it twice, he stomped the mud and channeled his darkness to the precipice of his home. The caked grass on his hooves wilted and charred, as did anything from the mortal world. Vicchan stumbled towards him, a white and glowing gash on his side. The work of a trespasser, and whoever was in there had to get through his familiar first. Yuuri knew it was foolish to bind with something as dispensable as a companion, a weak animal spirit. But then again, Vicchan was much more than that. He was there when Yuuri died, a long time ago in a faraway world. Everything Vicchan felt, his being did as well. A result of his magic. He inhaled and swallowed his rage.

That sulfurous and floral scent was the tell-tale sign of a repeat offender, the same one from a while ago. This was premediated, they knew he wouldn’t be there personally to retaliate. Snarling, he approached the entrance and didn’t think when he saw the looming figure over his offering table. There was a piglet, freshly slaughtered, but the trespasser didn’t stop slashing it with his hands, slurping the organs. Yuuri reared his body and crashed into the young demon, knocking over the candles and vase of red roses. His Japanese teacups shattered, and the boy tried to stand again but Yuuri kicked and sprawled him over the pillar. He had never been this angry, and to think that this shameless flea could break into his cavern, hurt Vicchan, and consume his fresh offerings without fearing repercussions only made him want to destroy and leave no trace behind.

Before the trespasser could transform, Yuuri pierced him with his tusk and watched him squirm. “Explain.” It sounded rasped, but his grinding incisors forced the boy to keep still.

“Are you the Boar?” He let his growled snort speak for itself. The boy’s blue eyes widened. His frizzed blond hair was matted by dirt and blood, and Yuuri felt such satisfaction.  “I’ve been fucking watching you. Seeing if you had any weaknesses. You were ice-skating the other day, at that abandoned rink you destroyed.” Yuuri narrowed his eyes, but the boy kept rambling. “And I wanted to steal your temple. We have the same name.” He had to give credit where it was due. He didn’t know if the kid was plainly stupid, or just reckless.

“If you come and hurt anything of mine again, I will destroy you in every realm of Hell.”

“Vkusno! You are just as beautiful as the rumors say,” a voice interrupted. Yuuri turned around. Another intruder, a tall, broad-shouldered man stood at the entrance. He _tsk_ -ed as he stepped over broken porcelain. A familiar followed him, one that looked exactly like Vicchan, only she was darker and older. Way older judging by her slight limp, but an elegant poodle all the same. “See what your feeble attempts do, Yuri?” The man scoffed and kicked the mud-laden gravel. “Did you really think you were a match for the Boar?”  

The boy squirmed, but Yuuri felt no need to hurt him anymore. He dislodged his tusk, now bathed in ink, and watched the boy try to crawl away. “Shut the fuck up. At least I do more than prance around like an idiot.”

Yuri? No wonder the boy was attracted to his energy and shadow. They shared the same name, although Yuuri already had repertoire and rapport among humans and his fellow fallen ones. “Who are you?” Yuuri asked, and the man finally gave him undivided attention. He was beautiful, even his wings. Extended gracefully and much too heavenly to be damned. Yuuri wouldn’t be surprised if this angel was recently demoted.

“I’m Viktor, of course! And I apologize about my little Yuri. He seems to think thieving is the way to move up, but we all started as maggots.”

Viktor? Yuuri definitely heard of him before, but he swallowed his curiosity. He wanted to know why Viktor showed his true form, especially in foreign territory where Yuuri could easily slaughter them and not face consequences for it. “Will you please take that with you?” He said instead, and Viktor followed his glare. “I appreciate my peace, especially Vicchan’s.”

Grinning, Viktor winked and eyed his cavern appreciatively. “We have the same familiar, so I’m definitely interested. I’ve heard stories about you.” Yuri began to groan, and pitifully extended a white wing, his scowl clearly telling Viktor it was time to leave. “This is my familiar. Her name is Makkachin.” The poodle barked, and Vicchan appeared as if summoned, his wound healed completely. They regarded each other before bowing. Yuuri said nothing, aware that circulating rumors made him far more barbaric and merciless. Humans respected him, and the fallen were in awe. He didn’t know why, but he wasn’t going to clear the air if it meant solitary peace and no future disturbances.

“Carry me, Viktor.”

“We can’t leave until you apologize,” Viktor said plainly, his expression amused. “You’ve been a bad kitty.”

“I don’t need one,” Yuuri cut in. “If he comes here uninvited one more time, I will simply act accordingly.” He let his glowing tusk speak for itself. “I imprinted his blood.”

Viktor’s eyes glittered. “Oh. That’s reasonable. I would love to see your true form, you must be stunning.”

“Carry me. Now.”

-

Yuuri hated it, he hated how much he was on edge. Ever since the incident with Yuri and Viktor, his paranoia reached an all-time high and he couldn’t bring himself to step out of his cavern. He watered the lilies on his precipice as Vicchan lounged on the rocks. Other intruders could come and hurt them any second, so he took matters into his own hands. No one ever attacked him this way before, not for centuries at least.

He consumed the piglet Yuri tried to absorb, disgusted that he had to settle for leftovers. It was a summoning sacrifice, which meant he had to visit the human who needed him. But not yet. Not until he finished his work.

“No one is coming to hurt you again,” Yuko said. She summoned her three familiars and scattered them across Yuuri’s temple. Her beauty still stumped him speechless when he gazed upon her carved, porcelain face. Full pink lips, eyes so pure and smile so radiant they didn’t belong here. He knew that was part of her deception. She embodied what he found beautiful, and it was more embarrassing when Takeshi was around, festering into Yuuri’s ideal man. They were puzzle pieces, those that fit so perfectly. Yuko, a succubus and Takeshi, her only light.

The human who made her bend the rules, who made Yuko inconsolable when he died. But she brought him into their realm, determined to make Takeshi hers and he was more than willing.

“You don’t know that.” He inhaled and dropped the boulder down the cliff, watching it fall into the unknown.

“Go to the mortals, they’re waiting for you. I can sense that.” She smiled. “I’ll look after your temple, with Vicchan and my children.”

That reassured him. She was one of the few who had seen his true form, who knew his weaknesses and virtues. He kissed her cheek and unfurled his wings. The piglet told him where the humans waited, and Yuuri cloaked himself with his Boar.

It never ceased to faze him whenever he entered the human world. Its life always stole his sadness and replaced it with awe. The grass and birds allowed his spirit, but were repulsed by his presence as well. The buzz of everything he didn’t stand for always made his insides crawl, but he reminded himself that without him, there would be no need for harmony and balance.

They lived in a small house surrounded by a tall, uneven brown fence. Clothes draped over racks under the burning sun, and chickens bobbed over pellets of corn and grains. The daffodils he stepped on died, and in their place, white lilies fluttered.

Three souls, and one of them was dying.

He pushed the door and let himself in. The dog barked, a small hound of sorts. Yuuri ignored it and approached the room where he was welcomed as a guest. There was green tea and green tea mochi on a small cardboard box. A tiny serving of katsudon on a pretty plate sparked his attention. The boy on the bed didn’t stir, his face sallow and breathing labored. Yuuri took a sip and was not surprised when the woman who summoned him came into the room. Terror etched every part of her face, Yuuri could taste the fear in the way she trembled. “The Boar?” She asked, hands tucked in her apron’s pockets.

“Yes.”    

“I’m Phichit’s mother.”

Yuuri looked at the boy, Phichit, and took a sniff of his illness. “I can help.”

“I just need him to live. He’s my only son.”

“Bartering for life has a price.”

She didn’t flinch at those words. “What is it?”

He smiled, and for a moment, he knew he showed his true form. Her fear melted and suddenly she was crying. He didn’t know how to comfort her, so he pulled a lily from his pocket. His snout and tusks contorted, and where he had fur, he had glasses. He straightened them and touched Phichit’s dirty bath rag with his fingers. It transformed into a brown hamster, and with gentleness he didn’t know he was capable of, he placed it on Phichit’s wooden dresser. Yuuri turned around to look at the woman, unsure of the decision he just made. “Katsudon,” he said, with a small grin. “Tonight, and every Sunday for three weeks.”

“That, that’s all?”

He frowned. “Yes?”

She collected herself, and Yuuri marveled at how quickly her fear faded. Her smile was beautiful, the lines on her face relaxed and he liked that much better. “Thank you.”

-

For a while, he watched Phichit through the hamster’s eyes. There was a glow in his demeanor, in his spirit. Yuuri watched the boy play and work, helping his mother with the fields and chickens. He laughed and sang beautiful songs in Thai, accompanied by the hamster always. His mother kept her end of the bargain, and Yuuri looked forward to the offering that would be in his shrine after a long day of nothing. Vicchan pawed at the soil, bringing trinkets to the cavern.

Yuuri sipped in the days as the boy healed, his life and spirit growing stronger. He had never felt such a magnetic pull to a human child, the purity of a mortal soul. There was no way Phichit would ever step into Hell, in this realm of darkness.

He would live a long life, with zeal and exuberance. Yuuri rested on the tree, soaking in the sun and the scent of the earth. Phichit’s laugher ran in his ears, cleansed him in ways a church never could. He traced the soil aimlessly with his hoof, and wasn’t surprised when the grass wilted around him. Pondering the complexities of the mortal world and exploiting its weaknesses only gave him headaches.  

He let the rush of life around him lull him to rest. Warmth settled around his back, so tender until it became cold. Bitingly cold, and before he could shield himself, the dagger was pushed deeper and hidden among his fur. He squealed and tried to push the human away, but dogs toppled over him and began to bite his ears. Whatever coated the dagger circulated through his body and nothing he could do stopped the spear that pierced his side a second later. Demon hunters were exceptionally skilled, he’ll give them that. “We got him!”

“Stand back, he’s dangerous.” Intense pain flooded every sense he owned, and this was it. He was going to die, perish at the hand of hunters. All for a human child. He leaned on the tree, let his ichor spill on the grass. They eyed him with unquantifiable contempt and with undeniable pride. They’ve been after him for a while now, finally slayed the famous Boar.

His hoof twitched, and he was powerless when his form began to flicker. His massive tusks fell off with a loud _thunk_ , his eerie snorting evened out, and his hooves became hands. The wind whisked away his fur.

Vicchan whined by his side and licked his cheek, but the hunters made no move to finish him. “Yuuri.”

He opened his eyes. Ice blue. A silver wolf stared at him, its sympathy crystal clear. “Viktor,” he rasped. The sounds of screams and hurried gunshots drowned the cloud of pain. Death was slow, but inevitable he knew. It almost seemed kind, preferable if it meant not feeling this unrelenting fire in his body. Never had agony visited him like this.

“You’re not going to die here, piggy. _I_ would like to be the one who kills you,” Yuri said flatly. His form as a majestic lynx, lithe and strong, made Yuuri proud for some odd reason. Viktor held his hand, and pain colored his beautiful face.

“Go fetch Yakov. Now,” Viktor ordered. Yuri growled but disappeared.

“Did you…hurt them?” Viktor regarded him wearily, not expecting that question. Makkachin began to whine as Vicchan’s shadow faltered, but Viktor only breathed shakily and reassured himself by touching Yuuri’s face.

“I did. Because they hurt you.” Yuuri didn’t want to hear that. He hated when human life was expendable, and being the root cause of it. At least Phichit was alive and well. He could die satisfied and comforted by the thought that Phichit’s laughter would outlast him. Viktor broke his thoughts with a short laugh. “I always wanted to see your true form. Just not like this. You still look quite breath-taking.”

Yuuri smiled, and squeezed Viktor’s fingers. Vicchan disappeared with a final bark, and then he was nothing.

-

It took many offerings and countless energy for him to reform. Yuko cried so much, exhausted her strength to help manage his pain. Yuuri watched them from his ice crystal, one Viktor had made for him. Only he could touch Yuuri in his awakened slumber, and he did. Viktor would lay beside him and tell stories, tales so improbable Yuuri waited for a punchline. But there was none, and he couldn’t offer any words of his own.

The dagger was blessed, and the spear had poison. It almost touched his heart, but it did destroy his body. Viktor bonded with him just before he would disappear into the void for eternity, held him steady as his conscience tried to whisk itself away and follow Vicchan. For days, he was less than a ghost as Viktor crafted a sanctuary where his body would heal. He was reduced to a small lily, and only ashes remained as proof of the carnage that happened.

His touches were hesitant, Yuuri could feel Viktor’s fingers on his palm. Hands became chin, and chin became cheek. Forehead. When night descended in their realm, Viktor would press a small kiss on his lips. He wondered why Viktor felt the way he did, why he was compelled to piece Yuuri whole again.

“I watched you for a very long time. Seeing you skate on the ice like you did, I couldn’t stop myself.”

His wing twitched. The other still had to bloom. He watched Viktor too. Watched him heal stray spirits, transform into a sturdy, silver wolf. Walk Makkachin and shower the entrance in darkness. Viktor’s cavern was much different. Yuuri preferred vegetation and gardens, warm waterfalls. Viktor had ice and snow, shrubbery here and there. “You were a beautiful mortal. What did you do?”

Yuuri blinked. “Nothing,” he said hoarsely. “I’m a cambion. My father tempted my mother. She was a priestess in a temple.”

Viktor’s confusion prickled his throat. He would laugh if he had the strength to do so. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Yes, it does,” Yuuri huffed. “I was half mortal. But nothing, no penitence would save me. A boar,” he placed his palm on his chest, “ended my human existence. And my father didn’t want me to be punished, so he claimed my soul and placed it in the boar that killed me.”

“Why do you protect humans?”

Phichit’s face and wide smile lodged in his throat. Minami’s hands sculpted a boar in his honor. Vicchan’s butterfly chases. His mother’s warm hands and cinnamon scent. “Being selfish is my specialty.” His strength began to leave him, and Viktor noticed, bracing for it like always.

He let Yuuri drift away again, marveling at how his lashes curled away from his face. Yuuri needed more time, especially with how those hunters mutilated his form. Viktor had never seen anything like it. He had his share of sorrow, watching fellow comrades fall to human swords and weapons. But to watch the one he loved slowly extinguish, knowing that he would never see him again, that was a massive refusal. He never knew Yuuri’s eyes were brown.

How his genuine smile looked like. Seeing it on his dying face and seeing him now, smiling at Viktor without reservation, it made damnation almost pleasant. He plucked a lily that rose from Yuuri’s wing and tucked it away.

-

It would be the first time he would fly again. He missed his cavern, his precipice of flowers, and Vicchan. Vicchan returned, he felt it as he settled in his body once and for all. How many pigs it took for him to come back, he didn’t want to know. Viktor unfurled his wings. They were silver and much thicker compared to his.

The snow crunched underneath his feet and Makkachin held him steady every time he stumbled. They reached the clearing, and Viktor held his hand as he extended them. Sleek and healthy, he breathed greedily and jumped off the edge. Viktor followed suit, and with the rhythm he knew so well, they soared into the darkness.

Nothing changed. Yuko tended to his gardens as Vicchan barked merrily and stuffed him with kisses. The sight of his temple elated him and Viktor glanced around curiously. They were here under different circumstances, a long time ago. Yuko squeezed his chest and plucked a feather teasingly, her braid woven with flowers. But her brown hair was now ash blond, her eyes were clear blue, and her lips pulled into a playful half-smirk. She looked like Viktor, only as a woman, and he hated it. His embarrassment on his cheeks made her snort, but she pulled his hand toward the rosebush anyway. “You kept me waiting,” she said. “Takeshi is at the waterfall if you need him.”

Viktor’s attention was on Makkachin and Vicchan chasing each other. “Do you want to walk?”

“With you?” 

Yuuri shuffled uneasily, aware that he had never courted anyone. As an immortal or mortal. “Yes? If you want, you don’t have to.”

Viktor’s bellowing laugh made him want to jump off a cliff and not fly. “I would never refuse, Yuuri.”

He wondered why he did this to himself.  

**Author's Note:**

> I should stop posting things I don't look over.


End file.
